The Dutchman's Pipe Cactus
by cappuccinowithrobert
Summary: Written from the perspective of both Delilah Copperspoon and an OMC named Edwin, Edwin is in love with a captain of the guard until one fateful night. Delilah's first convert and the only male, she finds pity for his situation as she foresees it to pass. Being only set months before Dishonored, the first chapter ushers us into a world not so black and white.


The Dutchman's Pipe Cactus

Like children's hands against his mothers full womb were my arms and face pressed against the chest of this man. His arms were the most inviting thing I had ever felt and in his arms I was enough to do what my heart would spur in that moment. He's held me five times, with each time it the wick on the candle melts a third of the way before my eyes fall heavy. His eyes, though looking to be closed, are still open I can tell. This bed we are in is softer than my mother's wedding gown or softer than the blanket she tries to pass onto me. I remember the Isles from which we were from only such a short time ago. So much has changed though, this brown skin no longer listens to his mother to not stay out passed the suns short gaze.

This son has found something in the night season. I found favor in the eyes of a watch captain. I wish to stay in his arms. I wish not bring same on my family. May my mother worry.

The city walls, confining as they are, are liberating. How an Empress like our own gets a job like this I am unsure. Dunwall, for every cloud that seeks to darken our skies strikes a silver lining. As soon as good appears, it leaves. I am reminded of the Boyle's Balls and remember that these silver linings must simply be fireworks: as fast as justice comes so it leaves. It has the same fan fare as well.

My family ran from our old home as we a had chance to escape some of the things we now are starting to see here. There it was different though, there was no hope. Here, my father now is working his way up the ranks to be a guard. My father would kill me if he knew I was with his superior.

This night should have stayed peaceful. The whitest moon hung through our window and the salt ocean breeze drifted far over the bricks of Dunwall. I used to hear whispers and dark poetry just beyond the edge of my hearing but Dunwall's skies have levied this. Tonight seemed to be different. They were faint and even frenzied, but only at the edge of my hearing: this captain's heart was the only sound I minded. The frenzied lines were omens for the creature I would become only after the wick in this candle burned.

"Edwin, you are amazing," he says that to me after his release inside my bowel, "Phenomenal."

"I want to hear you say why though," I grin, "And don't say its because you won't have to worry about little ones running around."

"Now look at me," he is somewhat serious, " You are the only one I'd ever stand to be around, If you could have my children I'd be happy."

"What's wrong, why are you so serious?"

"I didn't want to say it before; but I love you Edwin."

This night he said those words would be the night that I would never hear his voice again.

No more than twenty of those throbbing beats of Gristol blood the door to his quarters were burst open. Not much do I remember from that night, only that I could hear shouts, the feeling of cool on an exposed body, and maybe the feeling of blood between my toes.

I somehow made it down flights of stairs and out onto an anterior only to crawl and see a woman standing in this dead of night. As she looked at me, her face seemed similar to another's I had seen. I screamed so hoarse, "Delilah!" I slipped in my nudity on streets that were now soaked with the sudden downpour of rain, I was intelligible. I could see in her eyes water that formed, and she said, "Do you wish to survive this night?" The most silent downpour I ever heard as her whisper was loud enough, "Come here."

And from that point, rays of radiating darkness berated my tattered body. Like a juggernaut punching through my stomach was this energy she had given me. I could see in the darkness and my brown skin became pigmented with green of the moss. My attackers followed me to the door with my wished to be husband's detached from his body. An essence not of my own took to my feet and I unleashed a vengeance that left the anterior filled with blood.

Some of the men of Dunwall speak of Delilah as the one who painted that anterior. It was a man who decided to carve vengeance into the memory of the stones. They wondered why my voice was so clean and clear, graceful. I told them then it was because I was raised to be in the brightness of the day. I realize now that my flower bloomed only in a witch's hour.

My name is Edwin. I am a male. I am witch. I am of the Coven of Brigmore. The only male that will ever grace the halls of this manor. It was woman who empowered me. It will be a male who enthrones her.


End file.
